


Realizations

by rebgurl15



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, but mostly romance, with a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:57:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21439099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebgurl15/pseuds/rebgurl15
Summary: What I imagine is going to happen after Anne's realization at the end of 3x08.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley
Kudos: 69





	Realizations

"Well Marilla, Gilbert Blythe is officially engaged to that Charlottetown girl." Rachel's voice floated up to Anne's gable room, waking her with a jolt. 

It was almost 9, but Anne was still abed. She had had a late night after her romantic realization. Knowing she had basically sent Gilbert off to marry another, she had raced to his home. Unfortunately, she had been informed by an apologetic Bash that she had missed him. He had taken the last train to Charlottetown and would not be back until the next day. 

Anne had been distraught, but had hoped beyond hope that there was another explanation besides Winifred for his trip to Charlottetown. She had stayed up much of the night tossing and turning, alternating between imagining Gilbert with Winifred in France and Gilbert with her at Green Gables. As a result, Anne had vacillated from despair to elation and back again throughout the night, before exhaustion finally claimed her at dawn.

And now, if Rachel was to be believed -- and she usually was -- Gilbert was engaged. Engaged to Winifred. Anne sat up gasping as a sharp pain ripped through her chest. The images that had haunted her the night before returned, this time without any allusions to a future for her and Gilbert. There was only Gilbert and Winifred. Gilbert and Winifred at the altar. Gilbert and Winifred at the Sorbonne. Gilbert and Winifred welcoming their first child. Gilbert and Winifred. Gilbert and Winifred. Gilbert and Winifred. 

And suddenly Anne couldn’t breath. She felt as if the walls were closing in on her. She had to get out of there. She had escape. Heedless of her nightdress and her unkempt hair, Anne raced out of her room, down the stairs, past a bewildered Rachel and Marilla, and into the blessedly cool morning air. Her feet seemed to barely touch the ground as she ran down the dirt road and into the fields. The further she ran, the more her legs and lungs burned, but she welcomed the distraction that the pain brought her. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she needed to get away. 

It was only when a pleasant stone house loomed on the horizon that Anne stopped. She knew that house. It belonged to Gilbert and Bash. Her traitor legs had carried her straight to Gilbert Blythe. 

“Anne? Is that you?” A familiar voice queried from behind. 

Anne whirled around, suddenly very conscious of her extreme state of undress. Gilbert was coming up the path, resplendent in his best suit, his eyes sparkling with amusement. She opened and closed her mouth three times before she found her voice. “Hi. I, uh, needed some...fresh air.”

She knew she was blushing, but there was no helping that at this point.

“In your nightdress? With no shoes?” Gilbert was fighting to keep his voice steady and his face straight. 

Anne cleared her throat. “I find it quite...bracing.” Desperate to change the subject, she then asked the only question that came to her mind. “How was Charlottetown?”

All amusement left Gilbert at this. His face grew serious and his shoulders hunched. “It was fine.” He answered shortly. 

Curious, Anne pressed further. “Did you see Winifred?”

“I did.” 

“And?” She realized that she needed to hear it from his own lips. She needed him to tell her that he was engaged. 

Gilbert only shrugged. 

Anne almost roared in frustration. Why was he being so evasive?

She tried again. “And?”

Again, a shrug.

“Gilbert Blythe!” Anne burst out, surrendering to frustration. “Are you or are you not engaged to Winifred?”

For a moment, Gilbert didn’t seem to react, though an astute observer would have noted that a hint of amusement returned to his eyes. Then, slowly, Gilbert reached into his pocket and brought out a small ring. 

Anne’s breath caught in her throat. “Does that mean -- ?”

“I promised Mary that I would only marry for love. And as much as I like and respect Winifred, I realized that I do not love her.” While there was sadness in Gilbert’s voice, he also stood taller as spoke, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

“I realized,” He continued, his eyes locked on hers. “That I’m willing to wait for love.”

Anne’s heart was pounding in her ears, her breath was coming in short gasps. Her mouth was suddenly incredibly dry. She swallowed, her eyes never straying from Gilbert’s. “You know, I realized something last night, too.” 

“And what did you realize?” He kept his face neutral, but Anne heard a hitch in his voice. As they had been speaking, they had been subconsciously moving closer to each other. Now they stood with their faces only inches apart, their bodies even closer. 

“I realized,” Anne took a deep breath to steady herself, getting up on her tip-toes so her face was level with Gilbert’s. “That I am in love with Gilbert Blythe.”

With that, Anne pressed a soft kiss to Gilbert’s lips. It was a nice kiss, chaste but electric from years of tension. Warmth flooded Anne’s belly. She found herself moving even closer, pressing her body against Gilbert, desperate for contact. In reaction, he moved his hands to cup her face, deepening the kiss. Their tongues found each other as Anne let her hands roam up and down Gilbert’s lean, muscled back. Gilbert’s hands slipped down from her face to her shoulders to her hips. 

When they finally broke apart, they were both panting and grinning like idiots, their faces still inches apart. Anne’s hands rested on Gilbert’s shoulders while Gilbert’s remained on Anne’s waist.

Gilbert leaned down and whispered softly in Anne’s ear, sending shivers up and down her spine. “Say it again.” 

Anne laughed and rolled her eyes. “I love you, Gilbert Blythe.”

Gilbert sighed with pleasure. “And I love you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.” Then he pulled her to him for another not-so-chaste kiss.


End file.
